The point of being here in the first place...

My husband is a good guy and a good husband, but sometimes, sometimes, the man is a true genius.

Its been a particularly difficult week in Dubai- lots of 'yes Madam' meaning 'no f-ing way' in Hindi, the kids going more than just a little bonkers in our hotel with no permanent housing arrangement in site, worries about the abysmal economy and lots of general foreign country malaise.

This is my fridge.

When I woke up on Monday morning, my boring refridgerator had been filled with beautiful food from Italy. He brought me:

A kilo of luciously sweet green beans

A head of radicchio

A head of broccoli

Two huge juicy fragrant lemons

200 grams of salami

100 grams of prosciutto crudo sliced so thin you could see through it (not that we paused eating it to try...)

500 grams of parmesano romano

two packages of ravioli with speck and provelone

one package of ravioli with squash

one package of spinach and ricotta tortellini

An ever so slightly effervescent bottle of white table wine

A bottle of red table wine

a kilo of coffee

a jar of frutti di bosco jam

I may be forgetting other loveliness..

Its access to cool countries with grand food that gives me hope for living here...